


convincing enough

by mandadoration



Series: Settle the Debt [3]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Against the wall sex, Choking, F/M, Jealousy, Oral Sex, Past!Poe Dameron/Reader, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:42:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23121196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandadoration/pseuds/mandadoration
Summary: When you stumble across an old summer fling at the market, Mando gets a little insecure about his place in your life. You convince him there's nothing to worry about.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Female Character(s), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You
Series: Settle the Debt [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1650253
Comments: 4
Kudos: 172





	convincing enough

**Author's Note:**

> Reminder: this series is out of order, but for reference, this would be before raise the stakes :) Also! I’m def fudging the timeline a little to make this work, okay?  
> original request: "anon asked: I see you are taking requests 👀 I’ve been looking for someone for this. I can’t get out of my head Mando and reader (or OC) having officially been together for a couple weeks and then they stumble upon reader’s ex who is hella hot and Mando gets a little insecure about it and after reader reassures him they have the best sex of their lives"

Mando had told you to make a list of supplies for him to get while he went out to the markets, but you had grown frustrated trying to describe certain parts for the ships to make sure Mando would get the right ones that eventually you had wore him down and convinced him to take you with him. 

It was nice to get out for once. Usually you were subjugated to staying on the ship and taking care of the kid; the most you did was guide Mando through whatever place he was stalking through, talking him through the directions over the comms. You had missed being outside with the rest of society, haggling for prices. It became harder to try and persuade Mando to accompany him once he had admitted to you his worries and fears about you being in danger after a few incidents, how close he had held you and the child to his heart. You knew him well enough at that point to read between the lines, and had shared such a tender moment between you two that it still made your heart flutter thinking about it. So, with the Child strapped securely to your back, a blaster hidden in the folds of the wrap you used, and Mando trailing after you like a shadow, you were going through the markets. 

“15 credits, or I’m going somewhere else,” you say confidently to a merchant who was trying to sell you a coolant pipe for double the usual market value. 

It was easier to convince merchants to lower the price when the Mandalorian was hovering over your shoulder. 

But you barely notice him, instead opting to run through the mental checklist in your head over and over, looking over your shoulder now and then to check on the child who was drifting off to sleep in the cool breeze of the marketplace. You felt secure knowing that he was watching over you, daring anyone to speak up or try anything. 

Of course one of the most daring people you’ve ever known is here of all places. 

Someone calls your name from beside you, surprised, but all the same pleasantly so. You and Mando turn around to look for the source of the voice, and you honestly don’t know how to react because it’s the boy you met years and years ago, tagging along with his parents all the way from the Yavin System to trade for parts, and who had also swept you off your feet, stealing kisses under the searing sun with an even hotter mouth. Your fling had been woefully short, but you had never really forgotten him. It was hard to forget such charm and wit, playing smiles and impossibly perfect hair. He had left on good terms, reassurances that what you had shared was as genuine as week-long romances could be. You had gotten over him quick when you had figured that it had no chance of growing into anything more. All the same, you’re bewildered. 

“Poe?”

You blink, and suddenly he’s right in front of you, paying no attention to Mando as he hugs you tight, minding the precious package still strapped to your back. “It is!” he says, pulling back but keeping his hands on your shoulders and  _ Maker _ , he hasn’t really changed at all, has he? “You look great!” Poe has most definitely grown more into his looks. He still has that boyish smile, but there’s something fierce burning in his eyes, and he’s had another growth spurt since that last time you saw him. You’re honestly amazed he hasn’t picked up some princess from a wealthy star system by now. “What are you doing here?”

“Buying parts,” you say dumbfoundedly. “What-- What are--?

“Who’s this?” Poe says instead, picking up on how you’re fumbling for words and saving you with a wink. He takes a step back, and  _ really  _ looks at Mando properly. His expression settles into something more serious, then Poe takes a gentle hold of your arm and pulls in you in close despite how Mando visibly tenses. “Hey, you’re not in any trouble, are you?” Poe murmurs in your ear. “You know who he is, right?” You flick your eyes over to Mando, who, despite his obvious discomfort, is staying put where he stands. You take Poe’s grip off of you with a feather-light touch. 

“Poe, this is Mando,” you introduce calmly. You step away from Poe to slide your fingers between Mando’s gloved ones reassuringly. “Mando, Poe. He… he came by my shop a long time ago,” you explain. Despite the years, Poe is still very easy to read, his eyes drifting to where your hands are intertwined before looking back at you, then to the kid asleep strapped to your back. His face softens. “We knew each other.” Mando’s grip tightens. 

Bless his heart, Poe says, “Nice to meet you,” despite the hesitance in his stance, and holds his hand out. You look up at Mando with some concern, but eventually he reaches out with a stiff arm. Poe winces from the force behind the hand shake, pulling his hand back as quick as he can. You offer him a wry smile. 

“We have to get going,” you say softly. You fear that if you were to stay here and force any more conversation, something bad was going to happen. “It was…  _ nice  _ to see you again, Poe.” You can’t help bit of tenderness and affection that slips into your voice. Poe rips his glare from Mando to smile brightly at you. 

“You, too,” he says. Then, “May the Force be with you,” in a lower voice, before he slips back into the crowd and disappears for the second time in your life. 

You haven’t finished shopping for parts and needed supplies, but you gather that Mando’s no longer in the mood to entertain you. You lead him through the crowd until you get back to where your ship is parked, only letting go of his hand when you get to the ship. The ramp lowers, creaking and you’re glad you at least managed to get some oil before tucking the child, now fast asleep, into the cot and shutting the door. What you did get from the market, you put on the table to sort later. That wasn’t a priority. Mando has already climbed up into the cockpit, so you scramble up the ladder after him, pausing in the doorway where he stands, staring at you like he expected you to follow after him.

“Who is he?” Mando asks. You furrow your brows. 

“Poe Dameron,” you say. “He and his family came by a long time ago for trade.” Mando sighs, seemingly struggling for words. There’s some kind of nervous energy vibrating off of him that makes you concerned. 

“Who is he  _ to you _ ?” he settles for. You feel yourself flush with embarrassment.

“We… we had a thing,” you eventually mumble, looking down at your boots, scuffed and dirty from years of wear and tear. “For, like… a week when I was younger and--” A sudden thought crosses your mind, making you scrunch up your nose as you look back up, taking in his tensed shoulders and his attitude when you were talking to Poe. Stand-offish, trying to intimidate- the last time he was like that was when there was a twi’lek bartender trying to buy you a drink and making doe eyes at you. “Are you jealous?” you blurt out. Mando answers a little too quickly to be the full truth. 

“No.”

You could tease him endlessly about it. God knows Mando likes teasing you at every chance he gets, poking and prodding at you until you’re a blushing mess, but you think he’s genuinely… worried. You don’t know how, but you know he’s not looking at you properly, which is a tell-tale sign that few get the chance to understand. He wouldn’t look you in the eyes when he reluctantly told you his feelings either. You step forward past the threshold to the cockpit and put a gentle hand on his upper arm. “Hey,” you say softly, “it’s okay. That was a long time ago.” The door slides shut behind you, and you pull him with you to lean against the door, the cold metal shocking your back. “You have nothing to worry about.” Mando’s shoulders drop the slightest, and you press yourself against him, licking your lips as you slot your leg between his. Then, “Why are you so worried anyways?” Maybe that was the wrong thing to say because Mando tenses up again, and you pull him closer to dissuade him from pulling away. But it’s the truth because you have no idea why Mando was even insecure about you stumbling across Poe again. There’s a few moments of silence where the both of you soak in each other’s warmth, and slowly, but surely, Mando’s hand comes up to brush your jaw before it settles against your cheek. 

“He…” Mando clears his throat. “He could give you what I can’t,” he says. You cover his hand on your face with yours. 

“What are you talking about?”

“He’s not bound by the Way of the Mandalore,” is all he offers, but again, you’re good at reading between the lines and accounting for that note of insecurity and doubt in his voice. You sigh and wrap your arms around his neck, standing on your toes as you bring him in for a tight embrace. Mando’s hands automatically come up to wrap around your waist, pulling you in close as you tuck your head into the crook of his neck, the chill of the beskar helmet stinging your cheek. 

It’s a few moments before you pull away, just enough that you can place a kiss on the front of his helmet where you imagine his lips would be, and then some more to sink to your knees as you undo his belt. Mando’s hand instinctively goes to your hair. “What are you doing?” he breathes. You manage to undo the buckle, and soon enough you're pulling his half-hard cock out, licking a stripe up the palm of your other hand so you can start pumping him. 

“Giving you reasons not to worry,” you murmur, before taking the tip of his cock into your mouth and suckling it. A deep groan emanates from Mando’s chest as he grabs a fistful of your hair. You slowly take him deeper into your mouth, jaw straining and eyes watering as you fight the urge to gag. With how large he is, you can’t take him all the way, but you opt to wrap your hand around the few inches left, looking up at him through your lashes as you let out a garbled moan around his twitching cock. 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” he hisses. You draw back, gasping in a deep breath before you dive back in, bobbing your head up and down, following with your slickened grip as Mando gives miniscule thrusts of his hips to try and chase it. He’s doing you a favor by not fucking your face in earnest because you think that you might actually throw up if he tried, which would certain sour the mood. But the consideration he shows makes you ache in the best way possible, and you pull off with a slick pop as you heave in sorely needed breaths, pumping him as the filthy, wet sound echoes in the cockpit. Your mechanic’s jumpsuit doesn’t offer much padding for your knees, but you suffer through it. 

When Mando lets go of your hair, you think that maybe he’s going to force your mouth open to shove his cock back inside, but instead he wraps it around your throat in a firm grip and hauls you up back on your feet with a growl, and he practically slams you against the door. You mewl as the pressure around your throat makes your head spin, your hand coming up to grip his wrist and the other trying to undo your jumpsuit. You would’ve loved to keep sucking his cock, looking up at him where you kneel, but there’s no use in fighting it. He takes pity on you, bless the Maker, and releases your throat briefly to rip your suit off with brute force, and grabs the collar of your undershirt to tear that off, too. Mando’s hand comes back up to pin you against the wall by your throat. He holds up one of his gloved hands to your mouth. “Bite.”

You take the tip of his glove into your mouth, biting down as instructed, and Mando pulls his hand out, immediately going to pinch and pull at your nipples. As he does, you manage to wrangle your arms out of your ruined clothes and slip them down over your waist, kicking them off until you’re left in your panties. “You’re so good to me,” he breathes. You let out a stuttered moan as you fumble blindly for his cock, wrapping your hand around it, fingers barely reaching each other as you clumsily jack him off. He hisses, and releases your throat, running his hands down your body before snatching his other glove off and taking the one still clamped between your teeth, throwing them somewhere behind him. “Suck,” he orders, bringing his fingers up to your mouth, and you take them eagerly, slipping your tongue around the digits as your eyes flutter shut. When he slips them out, they’re glistening in the light. Mando slides his hand into your panties, and unceremoniously shoves two fingers in, curling them and hitting something devastating in you, and you nearly wail with pleasure. “You’re so tight,” Mando grits out, pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy, wet squelching filling the air. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart,” he says. “You’ll never think about anyone else because this pussy is  _ mine _ .” His voice is crackling through the modulator, low and rough in his throat. Briefly, in the back of your mind, you think that it was supposed to be the other way around, that you were trying to reassure him and make him feel good, but your head is still reeling from how quickly he’s turned the situation on its head that you can’t really complain. 

Or rather, you won’t. 

Mando slips his hands out to grab a handful of your ass, kneading the soft flesh, and he hooks his hands under your thighs and hauls you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, your clothed cunt rubbing against his cock as your hands come up to grab his shoulders for balance. “Mando,” you whine, rolling your hips to the best of your ability. His grip turns bruising as he lets out an appreciative moan. Mando presses you harder against the door so that he can slip a hand between your bodies, pulling your panties to the side as he rubs his coarse thumb over your clit. “Please,” you gasp out. “Maker,  _ Mando-- _ ” 

“Tell me what you need,” he murmurs, rubbing his cock between your slit, gathering the wetness to coat his dick in your juices. “C’mon, sweet girl, use your words.” 

“You,” you whimper. “Fuck, Mando I need you in me,  _ please _ , I--” Whatever you were going to say gets choked off as Mando presses the blunt head of his cock against your entrance, pushing insistently until he slips inside your blushing and fluttering hole, and presses deeper and deeper into you until he bottoms out and you’re left breathless. You scrabble against him, trying to find purchase on the smooth expanse of his armor until you find a soft spot between them to dig your fingers into. “ _ Mando-- _ ” you keen, high pitched and wanting. 

And that’s all he needs to hear before he’s thrusting into you, hips slapping against yours in the most  _ obscene  _ way. 

This isn’t the first time you’ve fucked before, Maker knows that you think of those fading marks that had lined your throat like a necklace, how the blindfold had been stained wet with tears, but there’s an undercurrent of primal  _ need  _ that wasn’t there before, the only sound being filthy slapping of bodies and punched-out gasps and moans as Mando fucks you closer to the edge, rubbing your clit in fast, tight circles. He usually murmurs things to you, dirty things that make your pussy clench and your eyes roll back as liquid heat travels through your veins while he pounds into you, but there’s none of that here. Just the sound of his ragged breaths loud enough for the vocoder to pick up. Through the haze of pleasure, you look at Mando where you think his eyes are, and this time you know he’s  _ looking  _ at you. No averting his eyes or looking somewhere beyond you even as his helmet is seemingly trained on you, but  _ really  _ looking at you with your flushed face, shiny with sweat and contorted in pleasure. Like he was trying to commit you to memory. 

You wish that you could kiss him, press your mouth against his as you nip at his lips and tangle your fingers through his hair, but this was for him, and it’s not like Mando isn’t willing to indulge you now and then later down the road. 

You slide down the wall, just a little, but suddenly the angle changes just enough that he can slip a little further into your aching hole, and just enough that he’s hitting just the right spot, stretching you to the fullest, and you come without warning, orgasm slamming into you, pussy fluttering around him and clamping down like a vice as you cover your mouth to muffle the shriek that claws its way up your throat. Mando’s hips stutter, but his thumb keeps circling your clit, working you through your orgasm. His pace slows down, opting instead to slam back in, grinding his hips into you before dragging his cock back out and doing it all over again. In the middle of your haze, you faintly register how he groans as he pulls out, releasing one of your legs to pump his cock until he cums, splattering warmth over your cunt and thighs, watching as it drips down onto the floor of the  _ Razor Crest _ with some perverted satisfaction. 

Eventually, he lets your other leg down, but has to keep a firm grip on your hips to make sure you don't collapse. Your knees are jelly at this point, faint tremors running through your body as your orgasm dies down. Mando leans forward, and touches his helmet to your forehead, resting against it as he runs his thumb over your hip bone tenderly. You lick your lips. 

“Are you convinced yet?” you ask him, voice hoarse as Mando brushes back your sweaty hair out of your face. “You have nothing to worry about.” He hums, and runs his large hand up your waist, trailing over your ribs, and takes your breast in his hand. 

“I might need a few more reasons.”

**Author's Note:**

> mandadoration.tumblr.com


End file.
